Silver Light
by actualhobbit
Summary: Draco Malfoy simply cannot fathom the reason for sudden, unexplained moodswings, crowds of senselessly babbling peers, and an alarming, confusing infatuation with Harry Potter. Whatever will poor Draco do? veela!Draco, HP/DM slash.
1. Out of Focus

**Title: **Silver Light

**Category: **Romance

**Rating: **M (language and explicit scenes)

**Summary: **Draco Malfoy simply cannot fathom the reason for sudden, unexplained moodswings, crowds of senselessly babbling peers, and an alarming, confusing infatuation with Harry Potter. Whatever will poor Draco do? veela!Draco, HP/DM slash.

**Disclaimer: **J.K. Rowling and her publishers own Harry Potter and its characters. I don't mean to infringe their copyrights. :o

**Warnings: **This fanfiction includes mature boyxboy slash. Don't read it if that sort of thing offends you.**  
**

* * *

That day, Draco didn't feel very well.

The blonde lay pathetically on his four-poster bed, draped with rich, deep emerald silk that flowed down the sides of his bed like a waterfall. It was quite sad, really, considering that this was his last day at Malfoy Manor before he had to go back to that godforsaken cesspit that was called Hogwarts.

Was it really necessary for all students to repeat last year? Not that they'd really learned much, academically, but honestly...what a drag.

And he had to go face stupid, _generous_ Harry Potter. Ugh. His stupid fans would be _all over_ him, the prat.

The thought bothered him more than it should have, and he dismissed the feeling with an uncomfortable clenching in his gut. He'd been thinking far too much about Harry Potter this year, and Potter's unwelcome presence in his mind was becoming increasingly irritating.

Deliciously irritating, but irritating all the same.

A sharp crack at the side of Draco's bed pulled him out of his Potter-induced reverie. He yanked his green drapes aside and raised a lofty, pale eyebrow at the house elf that was revealed.

"What is it, Dilly?" Draco asked the short elf with enormous, pink ears and luminescent orbs for eyes, impatient and all too aware how ridiculous he sounded even letting the house elf's silly name fall from his lips.

"Master Draco's things are packed, sir," Dilly squeaked.

"Very well, Dilly. You may go," Draco intoned. The house elf disapparated with a sharp crack, and Draco was left in his room, sitting somewhat awkwardly on his bed. He got up, feeling slightly nauseous, and paced around his spacious room, but soon Draco felt quite dizzy.

He stumbled unsteadily into the tastefully decorated bathroom, locked the door behind him with a few choice spells, and looked carefully into the mirror. His looks had improved by an alarming margin this summer, and although the change had been quite apparent, at the moment he looked like shit. His eyes had obvious, dark circles under them, his usually soft, silvery blonde hair was limp, and his wide, silver eyes were dull and slightly bloodshot.

Another wave of nausea.

He ran to the toilet and was violently, repeatedly sick. When the disgusting bout of vomiting was over, Draco rested his feverish head on the cool, black marble floor, too weak to even wipe the excess vomit off of his mouth. Too weak to even _attempt_ to stop thinking about Harry Potter. The boy's face filled his mind and he shut his eyes, wincing at the horrible, pained pang in his chest. He couldn't breathe. His breath came in short pants, gasps that barely gave him any oxygen at all.

His pale hands scrabbled against his chest, trying to get rid of the pain there.

"Oh, god," he mumbled, and then, fighting the pain, got unsteadily to his feet, turned the shower on with a flick of his wand, and stood under the cold spray in all his clothes. The fine fabric clung to his skin, and he sank into a huddled sitting position on the cool tile. His skin crawled, and it wasn't from the water.

He wondered if he'd be able to hold up alright tomorrow at Hogwarts.

After all the shivering and pain and nausea was gone, Draco got up, silently turned the shower off, and dried himself.

He felt oddly empty as he walked to his bed and lay down, falling into a restless slumber.

hdhdhdhdhdhdhdhdhdhd

The next day, breakfast was almost unbearable.

Draco's mother babbled on about how _wonderful_ it would be back at Hogwarts and he would have _so much fun _and the girls would be_ all over_ him this year because of how handsome he'd become this summer.

Draco didn't find this very likely, as most people in his year knew that he was quite gay. He absentmindedly took another biscuit from a plate on the enormous dining table, thinking that he really didn't feel that ill this morning. Perhaps he wouldn't make a fool of himself on the train.

And then, a sudden, unbidden spike of pain ran through his chest. He grimaced slightly and tried to focus a little more on his mother's inane chatter.

"Draco? Draco, are you listening to me?" Narcissa Malfoy asked, concerned. Draco looked up at her with tired eyes. "Of course I am, Harry."

The blonde woman raised an eyebrow. "What?" She glanced, a tad confusedly at Lucius, who looked equally alarmed but said nothing. Her boys weren't being very talkative today.

"I am listening to you, mother, and rather astutely," Draco snapped, unaware of his transgression. "But if you'll excuse me, I really must be off to Hogwarts." His chair slid back soundlessly as he got up from the table, and a house elf scurried to his side as he left, bags levitated in the air behind him.

* * *

**A/N:** Hm. So there's the first chapter- I hope you liked it. A few words of review would make me exceedingly pleased. (winknudge)

_**Preview of next chapter:** He slowly turned, and, without thinking, yanked open the compartment door. "Harry," he breathed upon seeing aforementioned savior of the wizarding world._


	2. Slimy Git

**Chapter Title: **Slimy Git

**Category: **Romance

**Rating: **M (language and explicit scenes)

**Summary: **Draco Malfoy simply cannot fathom the reason for sudden, unexplained moodswings, crowds of senselessly babbling peers, and an alarming, confusing infatuation with Harry Potter. Whatever will poor Draco do? veela!Draco, HP/DM slash.

**Disclaimer: **J.K. Rowling and her publishers own Harry Potter and its characters. I don't mean to infringe their copyrights. :o

**Warnings: **This fanfiction includes mature boyxboy slash. Don't read it if that sort of thing offends you.

* * *

Draco boarded the train, having already given his house elf orders to put his bags in the prefects' compartment. The elf did his duty without much fuss. He was one of the head house elves, and proud of serving the Malfoys.

Almost immediately after Draco entered the compartment, the young Malfoy was greeted by Blaise and Pansy.

Pansy looked the boy up and down. She had to admit that he looked quite good this year, though he seemed a bit pale and his exhaustion was evident in the darkness under his empty, silver eyes. It was a pity he was gay, really.

Draco gave the two a brief nod. "Blaise. Pansy. How was your summer?" he asked. There was a strange roughness to his cold voice. His adam's apple bobbed slightly as he swallowed to clear his throat without making an undignified noise.

Pansy shrugged. "It was fine, actually," she replied carefully. "How was yours?"

Draco shrugged noncommitally, looking away. "Nothing too..." his lips tightened. "...Eventful." His large, stormy eyes flickered to his other friend. "How about you, Blaise?" Draco noticed suddenly that Blaise's eyes were unfocused, and he'd remained uncharacteristically, disconcertingly silent this entire time. "I won Witch Weekly's 'Most Charming Smile' award!" Zabini suddenly blurted earnestly. "And I became president of the National Quidditch League!" Draco raised a pale eyebrow. "Pardon?"

Blaise looked suddenly disoriented. His eyes darted around confusedly. "I'm sorry, what?"

Pansy and Draco shared a Look and proceeded to ignore the boy. Hopefully, he'd regain his sanity soon.

"Did you finish any summer homework off, Parkinson?" Draco offered.

Pansy shrugged. "No. The end of last year was a mess. I wasn't even sure of what assignments to do. I read over the books, though. Hopefully that will at least give me some idea of what's going on..." she trailed off, looking a little worried. "Did you finish yours, Draco?"

"No," he replied shortly. He didn't feel like small talk. He wanted to leave the presence of his two friends, but when he attempted to come up with a reason for the errant idea, none was forthcoming.

"I think I should probably go and patrol the corridors for a while. Prefect's duties and all that, you know. Have a good train ride, you two." Draco started to walk off.

"You're not sitting with us?" Pansy called after him, sounding a little hurt. Draco glanced back. "I'm sure I'll see you later, Parkinson." He then turned and walked down the corridor, blatantly ignoring the first years running rampant a few feet beneath his line of vision.

He paused suddenly, head jerking sharply to the right as he heard a deep, soft, soothing voice drifting from a compartment somewhere close by.

If a passerby hadn't known any better, it would have seemed like Draco Malfoy had sniffed the air for a moment before pausing and walking swiftly down the corridor. But it was probably nothing. Perhaps he'd just smelled the sweets trolley, or a particularly pungent first year.

Draco stopped as soon as the voice became partially clear. He found, to his surprise, that he felt relaxed, at ease for the first time since the summer had started. He wasn't really listening to the voice, just letting the smooth timbre of it flow through him and make him feel aching and completely whole at the same time. He glanced in the window of the compartment that he was listening outside of.

And saw Harry Potter.

His eyes widened, dark pupils shrinking to pinpoints in the glimmering, silvery seas of his irises as he stared at the boy. He had to go to him, had to run his hands through his shaggy black hair and make him laugh and cry with joy, make him scream in pleasure, make him _his_. Not even Draco registered his own lips soundlessly forming the word _mine_.

He tore himself from the window, forcing himself to calm down. He was frightened by the force of his own reaction, still half-crazed with the feel of it. He felt an urgent need to burst into the compartment and say something to Harry, to say _anything_. Even if Potter got annoyed with him, even if he punched him, it would at least still be some kind of touch, some sign of recognition.

The Malfoy in him held him back incredlously. What was he thinking?

The voice had stopped now. It sounded as if someone else was speaking- perhaps the Weasel boy. Draco gave a huff of frustration that the ginger's annoyingly cheerful, grating voice had interrupted that of Potter's. He found himself listening in despite himself when he heard his own name.

_"...Malfoy hasn't been gallivanting around the place much, has he? We usually hear from him in the first ten minutes after we board the train. Maybe it's because his two bodyguards aren't around to protect him. I wouldn't be surprised if he was scared of you, though, mate, with everything last year..."_

The aforementioned Malfoy drew himself up indignantly. Malfoys didn't _gallivant_. The nerve! And he didn't need those buffoons trailing after him to protect himself. He fumed silently, but relaxed immediately when Harry spoke.

_"Maybe it's because I prevented his father from being sent to Azkaban. I expect he'll at least be civil this year,"_ Harry replied. _"I wouldn't expect much more of him, though."_

_"Harry,"_ a gentle voice chimed in, _"I'm sorry, but do you really think you can even expect that much from Malfoy?"_

Draco bristled, eyes narrowing at the mudblood's words.

_"Maybe not,"_ Harry sighed. _"He's still a slimy git, I suppose. He can't have changed all that much."_

Draco jerked away from the wall he'd been leaning against, eyes large and brimming with hurt. His lips tightened and his eyebrows furrowed as he forced himself not to cry. Did Harry really think that little of him? He walked away quickly, if a bit unsteadily, angrily wiping his face on the sleeve of a very expensive set of robes. Students flattened themselves on either side of the corridor to let the boy past, glad that they weren't the ones to make Malfoy look so angry.

hdhdhdhdhdhdhdhdhdhdhdhd

"...I don't know, though," Harry continued. "I think at least our bickering will give me some sense of normalcy. Everyone's been treating me so oddly lately. Malfoy's the only one who I can count on to treat me like a regular person." He grinned. "I can't let my ego swell too much, can I? I'm glad the press isn't normally allowed access to Hogwarts."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Ron and I can keep your ego in check. You don't need that prat to insult you every five minutes to keep yourself feeling like a human being."

"How would you feel if Ron suddenly started hero-worshipping you?" Harry snapped. "It gets old after a while, 'Mione."

Hermione shrugged. "It's better than the public openly calling you a liar and a child desperate for attention, isn't it?"

Harry sighed. "Sometimes I don't know, Hermione. Maybe I need one or two people to keep telling me that..." Harry glanced at Ron's skeptical expression. "Well, not exactly that, but, er..." he gave a frustrated noise in the back of his throat. "I think Draco might have changed, you know?"

Ron's eyes widened comically. "Did you just call him _Draco_?" he asked incredulously. "What, are you two _friends_ now or something?"

Harry shook his head. "Not at all! Didn't even hear myself say that, mate. Calm down. Your ears are red."

Ron huffed and looked away. "Whatever, Harry." The ginger looked at Hermione. "I think we ought to go to the prefect's compartment for a few minutes. Right, Hermione?"

Hermione was staring at Harry with a frighteningly contemplative look. "Sure, Ron." she said, though there wasn't really much time until the train would stop. They'd probably missed the main meeting. "You should probably change into your robes now, Harry," Hermione tossed over her shoulder as they left. "We shan't be long."

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**A/N:** I'm so sorry I took this long to update. I do have a few excuses, though. I had final exams the first week after the first chapter was out, then my father died and I didn't feel like doing anything, and if I'd written anything it would have been far too angsty for what I'd intended in this story, and then I had a busy Christmas. But now I'm free apart from school, and regular updates will be resumed. Yay.

I actually wrote the second chapter a while ago, but then deleted it because I thought it was crap. So that's why the end-of-chapter one quote isn't in here.

Please review. Thanks for all the reviews from last chapter, by the way! They made me almost giddy when I read them, I was so happy. I'm sorry I didn't get a chance to reply to them, but I'll be sure to reply to any reviews you offer for this chapter.

Enjoy the rest of your weekend!

-_Raz_


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